


Choosing To Breathe

by kylee_fowler



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Long-Distance Relationship, M/M, Post-Episode: e049 Old Oak Doors Part B
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-03
Updated: 2014-07-03
Packaged: 2018-02-07 06:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,919
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1888782
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kylee_fowler/pseuds/kylee_fowler
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cecil listens to Carlos' voicemail.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Choosing To Breathe

“And… I’m sorry. I-I’m sorry, um, it looks like I have a voicemail from Carlos. He must have called during the weather. Um, I apologize listeners, I-I have to check this, so stay tuned next for more of us and more of me until that inevitable distant point where I and this and everything must end. And as always, good night, Night Vale. Good night.”  
  
Carlos had said he would be back soon. He said just a few hours, and a few hours it had been now. He kept this in mind as he flung open the studio door, dashed down the labyrinth of hallways and staircases. He burst through the front doors of the Night Vale Community Radio Station, his index finger stinging from the blood sacrifice he had to make in order to exit. A cloudless sky of many colors greeted him.  
  
 _Carlos_ will _be home soon,_  thought Cecil as he simultaneously cradled his cell phone in the crook of his neck and fumbled for his keys in his pocket. He didn’t want to waste a moment not being with him. _Existence as a singular is not as sublime as two entities existing embraced._ Carlos had told him this once, the most poetic thing to come out of his scientific mouth, as they lay tangled one night.  
  
 _He has to be home by now. Why_ else _would he call? He must be waiting for me._  
  
Cecil’s phone rang a few times, then stopped, and beeped. He whispered his password hastily into the receiver, which took several minutes since it was a ridiculously and unnecessarily long password, then waited impatiently to hear the sweet, caramel voice tell him that all was well, that he would see him soon.  
  
“Cecil, hey, um, it’s Carlos.”  
  
His heart skipped a beat. In fact, it skipped several beats and Cecil had to pound his chest firmly to get it started back up again before the blood stopped circulating to his brain and ears.  
  
"Ah, uh, I-I hate that I got your voicemail, but listen, I figured it out. So, we can’t shut the oak doors unless everyone is back where they belong. And every moment those doors are open, more of that light gets through into Night Vale. I couldn’t figure out why we couldn’t just keep the doors closed for good and it was really frustrating to have a problem I couldn’t solve. And then I got sad. Because I couldn’t solve it. But then I did solve it and I felt so _happy_. So those are some but not all of the emotions that I had. Here is what I found. Night Vale is a place that is difficult to leave, and difficult to enter. And connecting a place as weird as that with a place as weird as this was causing a lot of strain on linear time and space.”  
  
Having just fished the keys out of his deep pocket, Cecil hesitated, and waited to see just where Carlos was going with this.  
  
"So, those native to Night Vale: Dana, John, the angry woman in the intern shirt, all had to return home. And the masked army all had to come back here, which they did. Just moments ago, the last of them came back through the door. It is so exciting when you make a scientific discovery like that. I was _very_ happy. But then, as the last of the masked army members came through the door, it slammed shut, and vanished.”  
  
Cecil had just fit his key into the lock of the car door, but froze, stiff with fear. Contrary to everything he had believed to be true, Carlos would not be home with Khoshekh… waiting for him.  
  
"And I remembered that I am not from Night Vale. I remembered that as far as the laws of the universe are concerned, it is not where I belong. Cecil… I don’t even remember how I got to Night Vale in the first place. I mean, where _is_ Night Vale even. But I promise I will find a way back. It’ll just take a couple of days, a week max. I’ll be fine. I’m a scientist. Cecil, a scientist is usually fine.”  
  
 _Don’t say "usually", tell me “always.”_  
  
“Maybe a few weeks, I don’t know.”  
  
 _Please, just… I need to know when I can-_  
  
"The upside is Dana was right, I have had 97% battery all day and decent reception! So we’ll at least get to talk every night.”  
  
A harsh laugh sputtered, and escaped shakily from deep within Cecil’s throat. It sounded more sob than laugh. He covered his mouth with his hand. So, they would be able to talk again, as long as all went well.  
  
"Best of luck at home… I love you.”  
  
The phone fell to the ground as a small voice in the phone growled and asked if he wanted to save or delete the message. Night was strewn across the sky. Purple, mixed with blues and glowing amber.  If only it could be eternal. If only he knew just how dear Carlos had found his way to Night Vale in the first place. Cecil had never thought to ask in the last two years they had known each other. Carlos had never thought to mention. Past and future had never been of any importance to them, all that had mattered was the now.  
  
 _Carlos may not belong in Night Vale, but he does belong with me._  
  
He left the phone on the ground, the keys in the car door, and walked over to his trunk. No, C _arlos’_ trunk. He had been driving the hybrid coupe since escaping the company picnic, and since Carlos had disappeared into the house that never existed. Just so he could inhale that smell of men’s deodorant, lavender chewing gum, and faint chemical fragrance. Cecil realized that he hadn’t taken a breath for several seconds and painfully forced air back into his lungs. Sometimes he forgot that breathing was no longer involuntary. Carlos would often remind him. His lungs burned as he chose to breathe now.  
  
He sat on the trunk and felt the cool aluminum beneath his hands. He wondered what it would feel like to just stop breathing altogether. He sucked on his left index finger for a few minutes, then looked at it to make sure it had stopped bleeding. It had. There was a small slit, fresh, next to other small lines scarred on his fingers. He has had to exit the radio station several times over the years.  
  
The sky was beautiful. It had been one year, one wonderful year since they had sat on this trunk together and gazed up at the lights above the Arby’s. He could feel the ghost of a hand on his knee, the ghost of a shoulder beneath his head as he tilted it to the side. Cecil thought he understood the lights back then. But now, he couldn’t understand anythi-  
  
 _~Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga_  
 _I know you can’t control yourself any longer_  
 _Come on, shake your body baby, do the conga_  
 _I know you can’t control yourself any longer~_  
  
Cecil’s reverie was interrupted by his phone ringing. Upon realizing that the intrusive sound coming from the pavement was his phone and not a distant helicopter, he leaped up and snatched it, answering milliseconds before it could go to voicemail.  
  
“Carlos? Carlos? Is that you? Hello?”  
  
There were exactly three and a half seconds of silence before he heard a response.  
  
“Cecil.”  
  
The voice was lower that usual. Something had to be wrong.  
  
“Carlos! Is-is everything okay? Are you okay?”  
  
“Everything is fine, Cecil, I-“  
  
There was a low growling sound on the other end.  
  
“What was that?” Cecil asked. “What was that sound?”  
  
“Did you get my message?” Carlos asked.  
  
“Yes, I just listened to it, why?”  
  
“Everything I said was the truth.  
  
“I… love you too, Carlos. I always have.”  
  
“I know.” Cecil thought he could hear a smile in the voice, and it made him grin. “But listen, you should probably wait for me to call you. You know what Dana said earlier. Time is weird here, and I don’t know if-“  
  
Carlos was cut off again by the growling sound.  
  
“Carlos?”  
  
“I am sure we will talk again soon. It is most likely. I’ve done some research, and… well, we will definitely have conversations in the future. I don’t know what order they will happen in, but they will happen, and… for now, just be assured that I am with the masked army. They are protecting me while I figure out how I can get back. You can text me, but remember _not_ to send any snapchats of Khoshekh, okay?”  
  
“Of course, I know the consequences of taking pictures of cats.”  
  
Carlos laughed, and Cecil imagined those perfect teeth showing as he laughed even though he could not see them.  
  
“Just had to make sure. I have to know you’re safe while I-“  
  
But there was a growl, and a barking sound.  
  
“Carlos? Carlos are you there? Carlos?!”  
  
The line went dead.  
  
A lone car sped past on the nearby highway. Within the car, a song blasted at full volume for just a moment.  
  
 _~…won’t put my hands up and surrender  
_ _There will be no white flag above…~_  
  
Cecil was frantically redialing Carlos’ number over and over again, but nothing.

The car passed. Maybe time passed too. Cecil had lost count of how many times he had dialed the number. But just as it was ringing for the nineteenth time, a small, groggy, voice answered.  
  
“Hello?”  
  
“Carlos? Are you okay?”  
  
“Yes. Cecil, what’s going on? It’s late.”  
  
“I just spoke to you, I am so glad you are alive!”  
  
“I’m fine, you know I’ll be fine, Cecil.”  
  
“Yes, I just had to make sure, the last time we spoke, it sounded like something attacked you!”  
  
“No, that’s odd, I don’t remember talking to you recently. And I’m all alone right now. I mean, I’m at the army’s campsite, but other than that I am alone. I’m glad you called, it is always good to hear your voice. I don’t have a radio here, but maybe now that you called, I will sleep easier.”  
  
“As long as you’re unharmed, I will sleep safe too, I think.”  
  
“Hug Khoshekh for me, will you? I miss him. I mean, I don’t miss the allergies, but I do miss him. And you, I miss you too.”  
  
“Come home soon, okay?”  
  
“Okay.”  
  
Carlos hung up. Cecil was reassured, yet not reassured. There was still an uneasiness tugging in the back of his mind and chest.  
  
Time seemed irrelevant now. All Cecil could do was wait and wait and wait and hope.  
  
Carlos was okay. Carlos was not okay. Carlos was okay?  
  
He didn’t know which of the evidence to believe. Two completely different conversations, one ending in tragedy, the other ending with promise. Cecil picked up his keys, opened the car door, sat down, and drove home. There he would find Khoshekh, and there they would wait. And Cecil would continue to get up every morning and go to work in Carlos’ car which was full of the smell of Carlos’ soft skin. He would do this every day just as he would continue to choose to breathe.  
  
And somewhere in a different desert, Carlos was grasping at handfuls of sand, letting the grains slip through his fingers, while pretending to be asleep. 

**Author's Note:**

> I started writing this after I saw the live show on June 4th, to cope with Carlos being trapped in the desert world. I knew that it would be a while until the next new episode after Old Oak Doors Part B (where maybe we’ll see how Cecil reacted to the voicemail?) so I felt like I needed this sad scene in my head to be less sad about everything.
> 
> This is my first WTNV fanfic I've ever written so I could use some feedback. Thanks!
> 
> Also, not sure if I need to give credit for the songs I used, but if so they are "Conga" by Gloria Estefan, and "White Flag" by Dido. And I transcribed text directly from Old Oak Doors Part B, but everything else is mine.


End file.
